No More Learning

We returned after a few days from a delightful tour, of which I have
many pleasant, and some of them droll enough, recollections. We
returned by Dulverton to Alfoxden. 'The Ancient Mariner' grew and grew
till it became too important for our first object, which was limited
to our expectation of five pounds; and we began to talk of a volume
which was to consist, as Mr. Coleridge has told the world, of Poems
chiefly on natural subjects taken from common life, but looked at, as
much as might be, through an imaginative medium. Accordingly I wrote
'The Idiot Boy', 'Her eyes are wild', etc. , 'We are Seven', 'The
Thorn', and some others. To return to 'We are Seven', the piece that
called forth this note, I composed it while walking in the grove at
Alfoxden. My friends will not deem it too trifling to relate, that
while walking to and fro I composed the last stanza first, having
begun with the last line. When it was all but finished, I came in and
recited it to Mr. Coleridge and my sister, and said, "A prefatory
stanza must be added, and I should sit down to our little tea-meal
with greater pleasure if my task was finished. " I mentioned in
substance what I wished to be expressed, and Coleridge immediately
threw off the stanza, thus;

A little child, dear brother Jem,

I objected to the rhyme, 'dear brother Jem,' as being ludicrous; but
we all enjoyed the joke of hitching in our friend James Tobin's name,
who was familiarly called Jem. He was the brother of the dramatist;
and this reminds me of an anecdote which it may be worth while here to
notice. The said Jem got a sight of the "Lyrical Ballads" as it was
going through the press at Bristol, during which time I was residing
in that city. One evening he came to me with a grave face, and said,
"Wordsworth, I have seen the volume that Coleridge and you are about
to publish. There is one poem in it which I earnestly entreat you will
cancel, for, if published, it will make you everlastingly ridiculous.
"
I answered, that I felt much obliged by the interest he took in my
good name as a writer, and begged to know what was the unfortunate
piece he alluded to. He said, 'It is called 'We are Seven'. ' 'Nay,'
said I, 'that shall take its chance, however'; and he left me in
despair. I have only to add, that in the spring [A] of 1841, I
revisited Goodrich Castle, not having seen that part of the Wye since
I met the little girl there in 1793. It would have given me greater
pleasure to have found in the neighbouring hamlet traces of one who
had interested me so much, but that was impossible, as unfortunately I
did not even know her name. The ruin, from its position and features,
is a most impressive object. I could not but deeply regret that its
solemnity was impaired by a fantastic new Castle set up on a
projection of the same ridge, as if to show how far modern art can go
in surpassing all that could be done by antiquity and nature with
their united graces, remembrances, and associations. I could have
almost wished for power, so much the contrast vexed me, to blow away
Sir----Meyrick's impertinent structure and all the fopperies it
contains. --I. F. ]


* * * * *

The "structure" referred to is Goodrich Court, built in 1828 by Sir
Samuel Rush Meyrick--a collector of ancient armour, and a great
authority on the subject--mainly to receive his extensive private
collection. The armour has been removed from Goodrich to the South
Kensington Museum. 'We are Seven' was placed by Wordsworth among his
"Poems referring to the Period of Childhood. "--Ed.


* * * * *

THE POEM


--A simple Child, [1]
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death? [B]

I met a little cottage Girl: 5
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.